Page 42 of Living with Death

He shakes his head.

“Have you ever fallen in love? Or had…” I fold my lips, grateful for the cool air around me.

He smiles. “I’ve fallen in love once, and yes, darling, I have fucked.”

I feel my cheeks heat. “You don’t have to say it like that.”

“How would you rather I say it?” he asks, a smirk on his lips. A sliver of warmth spreads between my legs, and I run my hand over the back of my neck. Why did that sound so sexy coming from his mouth?

“Fucking is fucking. Is that not what you did with those two pricks?” His jaw tightens.

I almost laugh. “I don’t know what I would call that, but surely not,” I look toward the other people sitting outside and whisper, “fucking.”

Azrael lifts his chin, licking his bottom lip, and something dark flashes in his eyes. He leans over the table, eyes bouncing down to my lips, and says, “If it had been me, you would know if you’d been fucked or not.”

My mouth dries as my core tightens with the promise. God, I can’t help the thoughts twisting in my mind. It’s been so long since I’ve felt a man’s touch, and I’ve never wanted one more than I do now. Damn these people and this restaurant.

Azrael leans against his chair and places his elbow back on the table, rubbing his chin.

I’m speechless.

My thoughts are scattered, and my brain is as crazy as this situation because he’s just said something so vulgar, yet I liked it, and curiosity is eating me alive.

What would it be like to be––I feel my chest warm at the thought—fucked by him? He fell in love once. Was she mortal or like him? I’ve never been in love, so I don’t know the feeling, but I’ve only been around for thirty-three years. He’s been around for centuries. Hard to believe that only one woman or female, I should say, caught his attention. I’m also interested to know how many he slept with. He’s probably been with goddesses and other beautiful beings.

Why it makes me green is a mystery.

The boys I was with were a joke. The first was the typical prom date. My mother set me up with one of her wealthy friend's sons. We both had one thing in mind: he wanted in my pants, and I wanted to lose my virginity. I’m not a romantic. Waiting for marriage was never a thought for me. I never wanted to be married, witnessing how awful it could be, but I did want to see what the fuss was all about when it came to sex, and if I liked it, then great. Perhaps I’d keep doing it. But I found it very unpleasant.

It was probably the worst experience I’ve ever had. The boy was all over me, breathing heavily. The locker room floor was hard and cold. He was rough and just jammed it in without a second thought to what I might want or feel. It was over before it started.

Leaving me there, he got up to get drunk with his friends. I found my father’s stash and got drunk alone, watching my bloody underwear burn.

The second time was a lot different, but only because it wasn’t in a boys’ locker room, and I was tipsy, wanting to give it another try as a grown woman.

It was ninety degrees in his car, and he had no AC. He thought our foreplay was the conversation we had at the bar.“Hey, you’re cute. Wanna fuck?”

Alcohol makes me brave.

It was over quickly and made me give up men and bars.

I look at Azrael, thinking about my life, and comparing it to his. I couldn’t imagine living for centuries and doing the same thing repeatedly.

He’s been in love, but that love didn’t have a good outcome, or he wouldn’t be here. He’s never had children, and I know I haven’t either, but we’re not talking about me.

Before now, he’s never experienced the taste of pizza, never had fried fish. When you think about what Azrael does, it all seems small, but as small as it appears, not having the option is heart-rending.

“You can’t be anything different?” I ask. His eyes dart to mine, and he lifts his brow in question. “I mean, you have no say if you’d like to do something else?”

Azrael lowers his eyes. “Only once does He grant us the option to live amongst the mortals, but there’s a catch. If we do not fulfill what we intended within the time frame He allows, we return to who we were. Never to have the opportunity again.”

“That seems cruel.”

“Cruel would never be having the option at all.”

“Perhaps.” I look at the rocks, watching as the water runs off the side. “Hypnos’ wife? She’s immortal, too?”

“She isn’t.”

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